Between The Spaces
by Chiseplushie
Summary: A locked door stands between Hermione and the inside of Snape's old quarters. Hermione can't help but be curious about what lies inside. She catches her bottom lip between her teeth, as she mentally flips through her mind, trying to think of a reason why she shouldn't peek inside. Birthday drabble for Disillusionist9.


A/N: Happy Birthday to the wonderful D9 ( disillusionist9) - who sent me a prompt on tumblr. Enjoy, my dear.

Featuring:

\+ Severus Snape

\+ Potions Mistress!Hermione Granger

\+ Parallel Universes

\+ I will eventually post a Part 2 to wrap things up.

* * *

Between The Spaces

* * *

The first time it happens, he is twenty-five. Severus walks out of his washroom wearing nothing except a towel slung around his hips. The towel in his hand pauses against the side of his head, water still dripping from his shoulder length hair.

What he sees _are his rooms_ , he's sure of it.

But, at the same time they _aren't his rooms_. Things aren't the way they were _before_ his shower.

Some things are not where he left them. Most things are in their proper places, like the stack of potions notes and Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson plans, though they are marked with the year 1996 - instead of 1985 - piled on the right side of his desk, topped with an ink bottle and quill. The parchment is colored with age. His brows draw together in confusion.

After a panicked search in the usual places, he accepts the fact that he is without his wand. What's happened to him is obvious, he just doesn't know _how_ it happened. Heart lodged in his throat, he isn't sure what to do. If he should contact anyone. If anyone would believe him. If he is _safe_ from anyone.

Severus dresses, and turns down his bed for the night (it's still _his_ bed, right?). Though he is tired, his mind whirls all night and he hopes … someone else doesn't come looking for him. The other him?

The next morning, he wakes up and his stomach is rolling. He presses his dark lashes together, and fights the pressing need to vomit. He's allows himself a few minutes to panic again, before he sets about gathering any books he has in his personal library that's relevant to time travel. By early afternoon, Severus is starving and frustrated, and nothing in the room tells him exactly what year he's in. Or how he arrived here. He doesn't want to leave his quarters yet, and venture out to the library, and doesn't want to deal with the repercussions of calling a house elf for food. He keeps reading, even though the text on Parallel Universes is becoming increasingly blurry with each page he turns. Just as the sun slips under the horizon, he gives in to sleep.

Severus wakes up in bed the next morning, he finds that his rooms are _his rooms_ again. He doesn't want to think about the excessively long and detailed dream he just had, but he has to check the date. His wand is on his nightstand, next to a glass of water. A quick _Tempus_ tells him it is half past eight o'clock in the morning on November 2, 1985.

~ o ~ o ~

Hermione waves goodbye to Padma, who sits in a comfortable arm chair next to the small fire place. Padma's belly is swollen, and Hermione smiles quietly to herself as she watches the other witch set a book on her stomach-presumably to use as a writing desk- as she rereads the latest owl from Percy. He is traveling again, and the way Padma adores her husband is apparent on her face as she devours each line of dark ink effortlessly curves on the thick parchment. The stack of fifth year essays about Calming Draughts sits precariously on the armrest waiting to be marked, temporarily forgotten. Hermione closes the door to leading to the witch's private quarters with a soft click.

Festive black and silver ribbons hang overhead, and orange pumpkins of all sizes and shapes decorate each doorway. Hermione's glad McGonagall temporarily relocated the potions classrooms to be near Padma's quarters.

She turns, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders as she follows the castle walls away from the base of Ravenclaw tower, passing portraits and students, on her way down to the dungeons. Students still ask her for her autograph, though it's now five years after Voldemort's defeat.

Hermione's footsteps are confident as she follows the path that she took with McGonagall earlier that day. Hermione rotates her neck, causing her tired bones to pop and crackle. The picnic she had with the Potters today after their annual visit to the Godric's Hollow cemetery was quite nice and relaxing, though nothing is as relaxing as the hot shower she was looking forward to.

A locked door stands between Hermione and the inside of Snape's old quarters. The rooms she is staying in for the rest of the school year are just around the corner, but Hermione can't help but be curious about what lies inside. She catches her bottom lip between her teeth, as she mentally flips through her mind, trying to think of a reason why she _shouldn't_ peek inside. McGonagall had said she is welcome to it, since no one really enters these rooms. They are in the same condition as they had been when the previous occupant had used them.

Her shower can wait a few more minutes.

~ o ~ o ~

The second time it happens, Severus has a moment of deja vu before he remembers what happened to him last Halloween.

The sitting room and desk area look the same, even with his hazy memory. His sheaf of notes from the last visit are mixed together with the other original notes from this place are still dated 1996. He frowns.

By the fifth time, Severus pinches the bridge of his nose, and presses his knuckles into his eyes. His lips twist as he contemplates his situation, and decides to do as he usually does: stay put and go unnoticed.

~ o ~ o ~

With her wand in hand, Hermione twists the knob and pushes the door inwards, the hinges creaking in complaint. Hermione frowns, thoughts of searching for old notes to incorporate into her own lesson plans leave her mind as the flow of blood in her veins quicken.

There is a fire burning in the grate, and the lights are brightly glowing.

She sucks in a quiet breath through parted lips, and steps inside, closing the door with another groan of hinges. The sitting area is to her immediate left, along with a closed door which she assumes is the washroom. To her right is a large desk, with parchment, ink bottles, quills and other bits neatly arranged. A quick perusal confirms that most of the parchments are yellowed and faded with age, as they should be. Her throat is dry when she notices a file containing parchment and journals off to the side which look more recent than the others. Hermione licks her lips.

Upon inspection, Hermione finds that she is completely and utterly wrong in assuming that Padma must have left the files and journals here months ago. The dark ink is slanted, and the spidery script matches the handwriting on the older parchments. She is familiar with the way the letters curve and dip.

As she turns to investigate the bedroom, the door to the door to the washroom opens and a man steps out. He is drying his neck and shoulders with a towel when he spots her standing next to the desk. His eyes widen at the sight of her. Hermione doesn't hesitate.

" _Stupefy_!"

The red bolt of magic hits the stranger in the chest and he crumples to the ground. Hermione is extremely glad the towel around his waist is snug when she hurries over to identify her victim-who she recognized on sight. She looks into the face of Severus Snape, and asks herself, _Why me_?


End file.
